


feel around 'til you find where your heart went

by nuttyshake



Category: RWBY
Genre: Atlas Fic, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Post-Volume 6 (RWBY), atlas ball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-01-24 05:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuttyshake/pseuds/nuttyshake
Summary: She remembered how hard he’d tried to suppress the part of her that felt for anyone but him, shamed her with offhand comments and silent treatments and outbursts of rage. Every spark of attraction on Blake’s part was snuffed out, downplayed, punished before it had a chance to be recognized.But Yang stood in front of her now, and Adam’s hold on her was slackening every day, and she wouldn’t let him touch Yang and what they had - not again. Now when she looked at the arm Yang had lost trying to protect her, she didn’t cower in fear for Yang’s safety, didn’t blame herself for allowing Yang to love her. She looked at it and thought, I will share your burdens. I will share my heart. I’m going to take care of you like no one else has. Please, don’t ever doubt that I will.





	1. Blake

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self-indulgent mess of a fic I have ever written. Ergo, the plot pretty much only exists to contextualize random scenes that I've had in my head since the end of volume 6. Enjoy, and remember I'm always open to (strictly constructive) criticism and that I'm not a native speaker, so if you notice any glaring mistakes, feel free to (respectfully) correct them!

In the end, it was easy as breathing, coming together.

There were no uncomfortable talks involved, no tearful confessions, no awkward dancing around each other. In the end, it was just this: one day they wondered what it would be like, and the next they didn’t have to.

It went from quick glances when the other was turned away, to drawing their attention; from reining in the impulse to reach out and touch, to holding hands while everyone pretended not to look; from having to face their nightmares alone, to whispers of _I’m here_ and _I’m not leaving_ and _we protect each other now_.

It was funny; she’d thought love was this tremendous burden, this violent affair that would take and take from her until there was nothing left, consume her to keep itself alive. No one had ever told her love was supposed to be _simple,_ that it felt so much like laughter - the kind she didn’t want to hold in.

She did try, most of the time. She didn’t look at Yang more than strictly necessary - or so she hoped - and kept their significant interactions private. But Yang called to her - even when she wasn’t looking, even when they weren’t in the same room. Blake’s affection for her poured and poured out of her and she still had _so much_ left that she thought it would kill her if she didn’t let it out.

She understood it was far too early to ask for anything more - not the right time, not the right place. They were still on the airship, nearing the middle of the night, and most of them were already either sprawled out on the floor, had their heads propped up against a wall, or had tucked themselves into a corner, trying to sleep while they waited for permission to land. But Ruby and Nora were still awake, the two of them packing more energy than their small bodies could contain, and Oscar was drifting in and out of sleep, startling at the slightest noises, which didn’t give Blake and Yang much leeway to talk things through, or… do anything, really.

Blake had her head buried in Yang’s shoulder, all her senses focused on the patterns Yang was drawing on her bare back, away from prying eyes.

_Are you cold?_ , Yang had asked a few minutes before, instantly stopping what she was doing to shrug off her jacket - but Blake had stopped her, desperation clawing her way up her throat. It was laughable, really; she could never be cold in Yang’s arms, and not just because Yang always _burned_ under the surface, but because her touch somehow managed to set every single one of Blake’s nerves on fire.

Yang had then recognized Blake’s shivering for what it was, and hadn’t stopped again, just taking the time to huff a laugh into Blake’s hair every now and then.

The simple motion of Yang’s fingers on her skin, the feeling of safety that came from being wrapped up in someone else, was finally, finally lulling her to sleep - and she fought it off.

She didn’t want to close her eyes and see flashes of red. She didn’t want to remember the blood.

So she lifted her head just enough to look at the girl next to her.

Yang had her eyes closed, her breathing so relaxed that, hadn’t it been for her hand still moving, Blake would’ve thought she was asleep. A slight blush tinged her cheeks despite the cold, and something about her ruffled hair made Blake’s heart race. She looked so young, so small. Yang acted so strong all the time that it made people forget how vulnerable she actually was. Sometimes she herself forgot she wasn’t the only one to have lived through that nightmare.

She scrambled her brain for what to do. Yang didn’t look particularly upset or anything - there was even a soft smile gracing her lips - but she felt bad being the only one on the receiving end of the other’s affection. Perhaps Yang took as much pleasure in offering comfort as Blake did taking it, and knowing Yang and how she put everyone else before herself, it wasn’t hard to believe. But it wasn’t enough for Blake.

It was that time of night when blood rushed with every breath, when every thought felt like teeth and everyone was laid bare, stripped to the bone. And under the Atlas lights, Yang looked like every one of her dreams.

She shifted just a little in Yang’s arms to brush her fingers over her other shoulder. She was burning there, too, of course. Blake was regretting stopping her from taking off her jacket. She’d have begged to be let in, to be part of that fire.

The movement, of course, alerted Yang, who opened her eyes and met Blake’s. And Yang must have seen it, how much Blake adored her, how much Blake wanted her right then, because she couldn’t _not -_ but Blake could say the same for her. The way Yang looked at her wasn’t new, exactly - Yang had always looked at her like she was worth more than she knew - but it was always concealed under a pretense of friendliness and general concern for her well-being. She had no reason to hold back now, and it _showed_. It made Blake ache.

Yang broke into an incredibly dopey grin, sleep already catching on to her. “Hey. What-”

Blake shushed her, tilting her head towards the others. Oscar had finally gone back to sleep after some time of tossing and turning, and Ruby and Nora had gotten tired of walking around and were now playing videogames on their scrolls, looking very much like they were going to crash in the middle of a match. She heard Qrow grunting somewhere in the distance.

It had been a long week, and an even longer year, and all she wanted, all she needed, was to bury her face in Yang’s neck and cry a little about it. She wanted to tell her about Menagerie, about how she’d spend her days, about how much she’d thought of her and wished she’d never had to leave. She wanted to tell her that she’d never known what she was looking for, not really, until she’d come along and given it all to her. That she was beautiful, and looking at her made all the monsters in her head disappear, and that she wanted to look at her all night.

_Kiss me_ , she wanted to scream. _Wash his taste off my lips. Wipe his fingerprints off my body. Touch me and heal me._

But they weren’t alone, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. So the hand on Yang’s shoulder drifted down her robot arm - she swore Yang _shivered_ at that, though she couldn’t reasonably feel it - and picked up her hand, laying it over her own waist. She gripped it tight, begging Yang to understand, not to let her go. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring - what was waiting for them in Atlas, how people would react to her being a Faunus, if they would even be granted safe passage at all or thrown in jail immediately - but she needed tonight.

Yang’s lips brushed her forehead, a quick feeling of warmth sparking in her chest and lulling her into oblivion.

And they slept.

 

Landing on a stolen airship in what was expected to soon turn into a war zone was a long and strenuous process that took all of Qrow’s patience, all of Weiss’s diplomacy in dealing with the Atlas officials, and all of the favors her sister Winter pulled to free them from the authorities and find them somewhere to stay while they waited for Ironwood to show up. As an official thanks from the general, for all they’d done for Remnant, and Winter herself, for bringing her sister back home safe, she also gave Weiss a credit card issued by the military for clothes, food and emergencies while they stayed in Atlas, particularly emphasizing the importance of formalwear.

That was when they’d found out that, at times like these, the Atlas government was known to hold official balls for two primary reasons: as a distraction from threats lurking in the background - such as a full-out war against Salem - to avoid high society tearing itself apart into a panic, and to force said threats out of hiding. Word on the street was Arthur Watts was back in town and would no doubt be attending, either to forge connections with the most influential people of the kingdom or to assist someone else in ruining the party.

Their involvement at the ball would then double as a nice, fun event to socialize and recharge, and also as a further line of defense in case anything were to happen, because _of course_ they couldn’t just have nice things, but they weren’t going to complain.

Not all of them, at least. The moment Blake had heard the word “ball” she’d started thinking of an excuse to get out of it. If it was a drain on her energy in normal circumstances, with perfectly normal and accepting people, she could only imagine what a mess it would be, spending an entire night either with Atlas society staring at her ears and making spiteful comments behind her back or hiding herself under a bow again, constantly worrying about it coming off.

Her hand slid into Yang’s, like it always seemed to now, as their group started to walk away. Yang squeezed it as soon as she felt it in her grasp, without even needing to look at her, and it was the casualness, more than anything, that made Blake’s heart quiver. This had been a thing for only a day, and it was already commonplace - nothing out of the ordinary to see, nothing to fawn over. She wondered why, then, that simple gesture had nearly had her in tears.

Nora, on the other hand, was over the moon with the idea of having some free time to shop for a ball and was already sprinting forward, dragging Jaune and Ren with her and leaving team RWBY behind.

“It’s a _proper_ ball,” Winter raised her voice to make herself heard over the sound of JNR scuffling about, although Blake suspected they were already out of hearing range, “meaning, you should dress as nice as you can. I’m sure my sister will be happy to bring you up to date on Atlas fashion, so you don’t draw too much attention to yourselves. And please, for your sake, pair up. You’ll be introduced two at a time, as is custom, rather than barrel down the staircase together like a pack of wild wolves.”

“Seems a little dramatic, but sure. We’ll bring dates,” Yang piped up. Blake couldn’t look at her.

Winter, however, frowned when she zeroed in on her damaged arm - a change which, incredibly, meant she _hadn’t_ been frowning before. “Yang, Maria’s leaving in a few minutes to get her eyes checked up. Don’t you want us to take a look at that?”

“I mean, yeah,” Yang shrugged, “that would be great. Blake, will you-”

“Just you,” Winter specified, seeming just the slightest bit troubled. “Sorry, Yang, but Atlas can be rough. A Faunus would cause too big of a commotion, and I’d much rather you be in and out.”

Ah, there it was. There it started.

Ruby glanced worriedly between them, Yang who’d suddenly seized up and Blake who couldn’t help her ears dropping in shame. Weiss was hard staring at her sister (or at least, as close to it as she could get, seeing how much she respected Winter - and Blake got it, really, that Winter was already risking a lot by having them there, though something unpleasant still uncurled in the pit of her stomach).

When seconds passed and Yang still hadn’t made any move to leave, Ruby touched her shoulder comfortingly. “C’mon, sis, you can’t let that arm freeze or get rusted.”

“Yeah, Yang,” Blake teased, hoping Yang would take the hint, “you’re not gonna die if we’re apart for a couple hours.”

Yang scoffed. “No, I am. You speak for yourself. I’m actually gonna die.”

She too was just lightening the mood, meaning she’d caught on to what they were asking her to do. But she was looking at Blake, making sure she would be okay, and her worry was still very much real and tangible. And there was something else there - not _pity_ , exactly, but the kind of understanding that only comes from experience, seeing things with one’s own eyes. And the mere implication that someone like Blake would draw unwanted attention was so, so far from being the worst thing that could happen to her.

“You’ll be fine. Besides,” Blake intervened when she saw Yang still hesitating, “I need to fix my weapon first. Ruby can come with me,” - Ruby squealed at the word “weapon” being followed by her own name - “and you can go with Maria, and we’ll just meet up at the mall or… something.”

She wasn’t used to that softness in Yang’s eyes, not when it was so out in the open. It almost hurt to watch. “Okay. Hurry back.”

The way Yang was holding her hand between them made her think she would bring it up to cup her cheek, but she just squeezed it one last time before leaving it entirely when Weiss coughed abruptly. The pressure in Blake’s stomach just tightened.

“Weiss,” Winter called finally, gently, noticing her sister teetering on the edges, packing more nervous energy than anyone was meant to hold, being back home and in close proximity to her father messing with her head, “let me talk to you for a bit.”

With the subtlest skip to her steps, Weiss happily obliged.

 

Shopping in Atlas turned out to be torture. Not just because of the unhappy stares they received from anyone who identified them as outsiders, not just for the ridiculousness of Atlas fashion - despite Weiss’s best efforts to paint it in a positive light, or at the very least find decent matches that fit everyone’s style - but because Nora. Wouldn’t. Stop. Screaming.

Ren had later awkwardly explained to them that, since they were kids, the girl had never owned or had a chance to buy such nice clothes for herself, and that she fully intended to make up for lost time by flying through the aisles of Atlas clothing shops, excitedly try on anything that caught her eye like a magpie when faced with shiny things, and yell her approval every time she found a good fit.

No one had the heart to tell her they couldn’t take advantage of the Atlas military’s generosity, and that she’d only be able to choose two outfits - one to wear every day, and one for the ball. Telling her would also mean having to watch her as she painstakingly narrowed down her choices again, and most of them were looking forward to just going home, already done with their purchases.

Not Blake, though. Sprawled out on a couch next to Ruby and Jaune, her upgraded weapon standing upright in its sheath against the wall, she was still frantically searching all around for something to cover her ears with that wouldn’t make her look like a snotty aristocrat. Ruby was patiently trying to pull a beanie down over her cat ears, but it just wouldn’t budge; it seemed they could only find regular, unassuming clothing in kid size. Not for the first time, Blake missed her ribbons, with all of their awful implications.

Ruby somehow managed to cover both cat ears and pulled away to look at her work, only for the beanie to shoot up and out when Blake’s ears twitched. “Nope,” she deliberated, popping the “p”. “It’s okay, Blake. How about a headband? I think I saw a few down there…”

Blake sighed, resigning herself to standing up again. Nora, wanting to be helpful, picked out something that looked a lot like a tiara from the top of her pile and handed it to her. “Doesn’t match my hair color,” Nora said, by way of explanation.

“It doesn’t match your _anything_ ,” Ren mumbled, taking more of the stuff she’d discarded to bring it back where she’d taken it. “Nora, how are you even going to carry everything?”

Nora gasped. “Are you judging my _strength_?”

“I’m judging its practicality.”

“Ren, we’re in Atlas.” Nora sounded more and more offended by the second. “There’s no such thing as practical.”

Blake burst out laughing, a choked, unexpected sound, Jaune following right in tow. Ruby was now trying to pull the cursed beanie over her own head.

Ren shushed them all, hinting that Weiss was nearby. Blake didn’t think she would’ve minded them slamming Atlas, exactly, but better be safe than sorry after all, especially when it came to Weiss. Then, back to Nora: “If you can’t narrow it down to two outfits, I’m doing it for you.”

“Oh?” Nora seemed _way_ too into the idea. “Please do, Ren. I’m curious as to what you’d want me to wear.”

Ruby dropped the beanie, her hands going up to her ears instead, blushing like crazy. “Guys, _please_!”

Everyone looked at Ren, expecting the same kind of blush to be visible on his face. Instead, Ren kept his cool like he had to deal with this everyday - and he probably did, now that he and Nora were officially a couple - and just grabbed a random skirt, a random sweater, and a scarf, none of it matching at all. Nora was horrified. “There. You’re going out like a clown. I hope you’re a happy.”

As Nora and Ren kept bickering, sneaking little touches here and there - Nora tackling him to get the clothes that were now being held out of her reach, him gently shoving her away, her grasping onto his arm and giggling in his ear - Blake felt a pang of longing. She didn’t know much about their past, but she knew those two deserved to be happy. She also knew Nora had been in love with him all her life, and she tried to imagine that - the fear of loving someone without knowing if they loved you back, the need to be with them at all times, the pain. And then the sudden release.

A flash of gold caught her eyes and she didn’t have to imagine anymore.

She didn’t know when Yang had come back, but it couldn’t have been long, because she was still picking her new clothes. Correction: _Weiss_ was picking them for her, pushing the most hideous articles of clothing she could find into Yang’s arms, and Yang was trying to find the nicest words possible to blow her off. Served her right for calling Weiss for help instead of her, Blake guessed, but she took pity on her. She’d missed her. Had it really only been a couple hours?

If anyone from their group noticed her leaving, they didn’t say anything. She was, after all, looking for headwear, only she was going in the opposite direction, towards the sun rising on the other side of the shop.

Yang hadn’t seen her yet, too busy talking Weiss’s ears off about how much she did _not_ get her style, but Weiss had. And she gracefully twirled around, flashed her a quick smirk, and brushed Yang’s protests off with “You know, just try that on before complaining,” before pushing her into the closest dressing room and motioning for Blake to come closer.

When she did as she was asked, Weiss just huffed “Finally,” and started walking back toward the rest of the group. “She’s all yours. I give up. _You_ find her something nice to wear.”

“Weiss, what-” Blake began, but Weiss just walked right past her, satisfaction etched in every line of her face. She couldn’t even try to pick it apart, because a voice came right away from the dressing room.

“Weiss? Can I get a hand here? Like, a human hand.”

Blake froze on the spot. She debated running - surely the promise she’d made didn’t account for _this_. She also thought of calling Weiss back, but she was already gone and nowhere to be seen. It was her mom leaving her at the register to collect the last of her groceries all over again, only a thousand times worse, because Weiss hadn’t left her with a grumpy shopkeeper but rather with the girl she loved, who was changing inside a dressing room and, by the sounds of it, really needed her help.

After some stumbling, Yang pushed the curtain aside, and Blake’s heart rate spiked. “Weiss, where did you g- oh.” _Now_ she’d seen her.

Blake felt like she should blush - Yang was eating her up like she hadn’t seen her in years, despite her only having changed her clothes - but it made her feel good, rather than self-conscious. She was looking at Yang in much the same way, for no reason other than the jacket she was trying on hung off her arm, showing off her bare shoulder, and Blake had never wanted anyone more in her entire life.

“Hey,” Blake breathed, rather than spoke. She hadn’t known her voice could sound so soft.

Yang took a little longer to reply, still observing Blake’s new attire. She was wearing a white, gold-lined skirt over black thigh highs and a black sweater on top of that, lapels of a white camisole peeking out. Nothing too out of the ordinary for her, but you wouldn’t know it by the way Yang looked at her.

“Hi. Um, could you…” She raised her right arm, illustrating the problem: the jacket had gotten caught in one of the crevices between metal plates and risked tearing. “My arm’s stuck.”

_Look her in the eyes, you dunce,_ Weiss’s voice was telling her in her head, forcing her to turn her gaze away from the exposed skin.

She stepped forward, her hand casually sliding down Yang’s shoulder - she’d never noticed those tiny freckles, that beauty spot - to where her jacket was caught, gently pulling at the cloth while Yang pretended not to shiver.

Would Yang really have done this with Weiss, if she’d been around? Would she have let Weiss touch her like that? Not that she was jealous. She had no reason to be, not when Yang held a silent prayer for her in her eyes. Not when Blake was so close to answering it, right there in the middle of the mall.

“Thanks,” Yang murmured. “It’s like a new pair of shoes, you know - you have to break it in before it can feel like part of yourself and not, like, a useless, hanging limb.”

She motioned for Yang to turn around so she could get the jacket unstuck from the back, too. It was definitely her style, brown with a fur lining, but tight enough to hug her figure and long enough to reach her knees, making it look more like a dress. A black belt ran all around it, still loose.

That was good. She couldn’t look at Yang like this. She could get the job done and collect herself. Blake just hadn’t _expected_ her to throw her hair over her other shoulder so that the right side of her neck and collarbone was also completely visible. She hadn’t known the true nature of her feelings for Yang for very long. She was utterly unequipped to deal with this.

Weiss’s voice didn’t come to her aid this time - Adam did. _She’s in this situation because of you. Look at her, she can barely dress herself without help - and you’re thinking about getting her under you?_

She could feel his disgust, his disappointment. But she wasn’t going to give him of all people the moral high ground, not when _he_ had been the one to hurt Yang in the first place. Not when he’d blamed Blake for all his misgivings and guilted her into staying with him before she was old enough to know what she wanted, needed, deserved.

She remembered how hard he’d tried to suppress the part of her that felt for anyone but him, shamed her with offhand comments and silent treatments and outbursts of rage. Every spark of attraction on Blake’s part was snuffed out, downplayed, punished before it had a chance to be recognized.

But Yang stood in front of her now, and Adam’s hold on her was slackening every day, and she wouldn’t let him touch Yang and what they had - not again. Now when she looked at the arm Yang had lost trying to protect her, she didn’t cower in fear for Yang’s safety, didn’t blame herself for allowing Yang to love her. She looked at it and thought, _I will share your burdens. I will share my heart. I’m going to take care of you like no one else has. Please, don’t ever doubt that I will._

She eventually freed the jacket from where it’d gotten caught, but before she could lay it back over Yang's arm she reached down and pressed a kiss to her skin, right where her shoulder met her neck.

Yang’s breath hitched, but by the time she’d tilted her head to the side to give her more access Blake was already back to hovering over her, looking at her expectantly.

“Go to the ball with me,” she murmured.

When Yang turned around, her eyes were wide, soft and uncomprehending. “Was I going to go with someone else?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it.” Her shoulders shook as she shrugged, betraying her nervousness. This didn’t feel like nothing, like something both of them could just take for granted. It felt like the first step towards something new. “Just know, if you’re undecided, that I’ll do a better job than Weiss helping you pick what to wear.”

Yang burst out laughing. “Well, I think you’re the only one who’s managed to find Atlas clothes to actually look good in, so I’ll have to take you up on that. But then again, you looking stunning in everything might have something to do with that.”

Blake’s heart fluttered, because Yang made her so terribly weak with so little and she was just going to have to deal with it for a long, long time. “Well, I’m not done yet. I still have to find something to cover my head with.”

Yang frowned and zoned in on her downcast ears, suddenly seeing the problem. It looked like she’d forgotten it was even a problem in the first place. Blake had never had that luxury, but she’d eventually found the strength to get rid of her ribbons anyway and accept herself for what, and who, she was. She hated having to go back on her progress now.

Yang seemed to follow her train of thought and grabbed one of her hands. “Hey, none of that. You’ve already been so brave, Blake - braver than any of us could be. But what’s more important now is that you’re safe. Look…” She was struck by a sudden thought, and reached down to her knee, untangling her purple bandana and holding it up for her. “You must know all the stories, right? About knights and the dangers they faced for their damsels? Ruby used to love those, too.”

Blake couldn’t understand what she was getting at. “Yes?”

“Well, before leaving for quests, the damsels left their knights something to remember them by.” Yang was beaming at this point. “Consider this my favor.”

Blake eyed the bandana again. It could probably fit around her head, tie down her ears or bind them in a bow. Still… “What?”

“Hey, you’re facing great peril. For yourself, but also for me - because I need you to be safe. I’m gonna die if we’re apart for more than a couple hours, remember?”

“Oh, gods,” Blake laughed. “I think you’ve done just fine.”

“Ask Maria. She couldn’t stand me being that grumpy. You wanna know how many times she’s hit me with that staff of hers?”

“Mmh, that explains it,” she said, noticing the slightest bump on the side of her head. Without thinking, she reached out to brush some of Yang’s hair aside and take a better look at it. Then she froze, not because of anything Yang did, but because she just stood there, unworried, unmoving. Yang never let anyone touch her hair. Blake felt like she was threading gold in her hands, like she was holding Yang’s heart.

“Thank you,” she whispered. For the bandana, for helping her with Adam, for trusting her blindly and recklessly even when she’d done nothing to deserve it. “Go to the ball with me.”

She said it again, because in that moment, it was the closest thing to _I love you._

Yang just smiled, closing her eyes against the feeling of Blake brushing her hair. “Okay,” she said, and Blake felt it like _I love you too._

 

“You guys are _mean_ ,” Jaune groaned, back on the couch, having had an all around bad day. Ren and Nora telling him he couldn’t be their date was the final nail in the coffin. “Why can’t I just show up with the both of you?”

“Because it’s not like the ball we had at Beacon, Jaune,” Ren explained for what felt like the tenth time. “These people are all about formality and propriety. Three people show up at once, you make things weird; all eyes are on us for the rest of the night and our incognito mission is blown up.”

“Plus, Ren and I still haven’t had a chance to go on a real date. We love you and we’d die for you, Jaune, but this is something we have to do on our own, you know-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Jaune threw his head back against the headrest. This was him begging his parents not to leave him with seven sisters to go on their date/second honeymoon/anniversary dinner all over again. “You know what else will be weird? If I show up alone. Because that’s exactly what’s gonna happen when Weiss turns me down.”

He avoided thinking of Pyrrha. Her name and smile and last (first) kiss were still a festering wound under his skin that he didn’t let himself dwell on too much, especially at times like these. But it stung all the same.

“Why Weiss?” Nora asked. “Have you tried asking Ruby?”

“She’s going with Oscar. She’s offered, actually. Apparently, Oscar could use all the encouragement he can get, being so new to all of this.” That did kind of make him feel better. He wouldn’t be the only one to make a fool of himself, at least.

Ren then made a suggestion so absurd, so outrageous, that Nora decided she had to check if he wasn't feeling unwell. “What about Blake?”

Jaune couldn’t help it. Really, he couldn’t. As Nora redirected Ren’s gaze towards a scene not too far away in lieu of an answer, Jaune broke into loud fits of laughter that drew the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

But not Blake and Yang. Jaune was sure people looked at each other like that all the time, in the privacy of their own homes or when caught up in intimacy, but he’d never seen that amount of longing displayed in public. It was filling the air, twisting his insides - Blake’s fingers through Yang’s hair, Yang’s hand on Blake’s hand.

“I mean,” Nora piped up, trying to be supportive, “at least we know she likes blondes.”

Jaune resolved to go and ask Weiss that same day.


	2. Yang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, they hadn’t laid down any rules. They hadn’t even defined their relationship. They’d just taken things as they went, under the mutual assumption that they both felt deeply for one another. Not that Yang disliked Blake asking for more, really; if anyone had asked her what she wanted most out of life, kissing Blake would be right on top. It’s just she hadn’t expected to, not for a long time. She’d been willing to wait for as long as it took for Blake to feel ready, willing to cherish just Blake’s hands on her skin, in her hair, Blake’s body sleeping next to hers. It already felt like so much, like she was taking advantage of Blake, and there she was, asking her to take more.
> 
> I’ve carried this heart all my life, she wished she could say. Do you know how to handle it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've actually had most of this chapter ready for about a month, but then exams kept me too busy and I could only now get around to finishing it. I've channeled all my hatred for the GOT finale into writing this (so if things get a tad too cheesy for you, well... that's why) and of course I ended up going overboard and having to add one last chapter because I just had to include PLOT. Anyway, I don't think I have as good a grasp on Yang's POV as I have Blake's, but hey, you'll tell me what you think in the comments. I accept all constructive criticism, as long as it's respectful, and remember I'm not a native speaker so feel free to correct me on anything :)

Back and forth, back and forth, Yang’s hand swept across Blake’s forehead. Blake looked smaller than usual in the mornings, her breathing synchronized with with Yang’s heartbeat, a book still clutched close to her chest.

She’d fallen asleep reading, like so many times before at Beacon, only this time it was in Yang’s arms instead of her own bed. Yang had even tried to sneak a peek every once in a while, but Blake read too fast for her liking and, quite frankly, was way too much into purple prose and romantic plots that relied on unnecessary drama. That didn’t seem to be the case, though, since Blake had drifted off blissfully. It must’ve been a happy book.

And then there was the small detail that she’d kept getting distracted by the girl in her lap. The way her hair sometimes fell over her eyes, and Yang scrambled to brush it away so Blake didn’t lose track. The way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her fingers gliding along the page as she went on. She’d always paid close attention to Blake, but being let in on her private moments, her most genuine reactions, was intoxicating. She longed to live under her skin. She longed to be in her head.  _ Do you think of me as often as I think of you? _

Atlas’s cold dawn reached through the curtains, painting the room in pale yellows and cyans. 

The first night in Winter’s apartment had been rough. The only spare bedroom was gallantly given to Maria, so the rest of them had scattered around the living room in armchairs, on the couch, in sleeping bags. However, everyone had been woken up at least once by Blake’s screams, and morning had found her and Yang huddled close together despite Yang already sharing a sleeping bag with Ruby. As a result, they were half wryly pushed together, half mercilessly kicked out of the common room the night after. Yang had felt guilty, at first. She didn’t feel guilty now, after the best night’s sleep of her life.

Yang wasn’t exactly trying to coax Blake awake, but she wasn’t trying to keep her asleep, either, her eyelashes getting caught in strands of Blake’s hair, her breaths right on her lips. She also couldn’t seem to look away, so that, when Blake opened her eyes, she found Yang staring at her.  “Yang.”

Was it too late now? It probably was. She must’ve looked like a blubbering idiot. “What.”

Blake raised her eyebrow in response, but a little smile played on her lips, teasing, comforting. “Good morning.”

God, how did Blake expect her to be coherent when all Yang wanted was to curl into her and kiss the sleep away from her eyes? “Hi, baby.”

She felt Blake’s giggles against her skin. Blake’s legs twining with hers. “‘Baby’. That’s new. I like it.”

Yang murmured her assent, trying to ignore the way Blake nosed at the curve of her neck.  _ Please press your lips there yes right there no go back.  _ “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever. Wonder why.”

Something was digging into Yang’s hip, and unfortunately, it was Blake’s book. She reached between them, pulling it out from under the covers and moving to throw it on the ground, but Blake shrieked and took it out of her grasp. “Don’t you dare break the spine. I need to give it back to Atlas Academy today.”

“We’re literally in a floating kingdom in the sky, and you went to the library? God, what a nerd.”

“Shut up. This is something that matters a lot to me.” Yet Blake threw the book on her nightstand only slightly less carelessly than Yang would have. “It’s about Faunus treatment in Mantle. Well, sort of. You can’t directly criticize the system without being censored, so it’s presented as a love story between two Faunus working in the mines. But the author is a Faunus, so we’re supposed to read between the lines.”

Yang listened attentively as Blake went into detail, knowing Blake’s mood would soon be ruined but respecting her need to talk about it. She darkened every time Faunus discrimination was brought up or even alluded to, and Yang had wanted to keep her mind out of it for a little while longer. She wanted to get used to how happy Blake had looked just a minute before, instead of having to cherish every moment like it was the last. Maybe she could have that, one day.

For now… “It makes me want to go down there, you know. Rally some forces, get on a ship. Start a riot.”

“Start a riot, just like that. Yeah, that’ll work,” Yang joked, but truthfully, if anyone could do it, that was Blake. It was just like her to always need a cause to connect with, because being on the way to literally save the world wasn’t enough for her. Beating Salem was too far into the future, and there was no guarantee it could be done at all. But she could help the Faunus now.

It was the kind of stupid, honorable thing that had made Yang fall in love with her, the kind of courage and resolve Yang desperately wished to find in herself someday.

The shadow of a smile made its way onto Blake’s face again. “You forget you’re talking to a former terrorist. They would’ve won, too, if I hadn’t switched sides.”

“The power of you.”

“Too bad no one can figure out how to get to Mantle with the borders closed, and the SDC’s control in Atlas is too powerful. Not even I could do anything without inside help.”

“If only you were friends with a Schnee who was conveniently at odds with her family.”

Curled into herself, Blake turned her head into Yang and burrowed it into her stomach. “That’s exactly why I’d keep her out of it. She’s already got so much on her plate. Facing her father, redeeming her name.” The vibrations were making her ticklish, but she stayed quiet. She didn’t want to lose Blake’s muffled voice on her skin. “I don’t think she could stand to help me too.”

“Why wouldn’t she? This is the perfect chance to get back at her father - start mining his empire from the inside.” Then she howled as Blake pinched her belly, twisting some of the skin there. “What did I do?!”

“Was that a mining pun, ‘cause I  _ swear _ -”

“What? You make a pun  _ once _ and for the rest of your life people treat you like a  _ jokester _ -” She retaliated, attacking Blake’s sides and watching her fold on herself, trying to bat her hands away.

“Don’t you  _ dare, Yang, don’t _ -” She squealed, her pitch getting higher and higher with every word, and then she twitched so hard to get away from Yang that she ended up kicking Yang in the face. “I’m sorry! You shouldn’t have started!”

“You little-” Yang massaged her nose, checking if anything was broken, and immediately pushed her back down when Blake tried to get up, possibly to make sure she was okay and apologize once more, possibly to tickle somewhere she couldn’t reach before. Yang couldn’t risk it. She had to make sure Blake would stay put, which was why she got one leg out from under Blake’s head and threw it over Blake’s leg, deftly rolling on top of her. For that, and no other reason, she also pinned down both of her wrists. “You’re dead.”

Blake was unsettled, though not in the way Yang was hoping for. She looked like she  _ needed _ whatever Yang was going to do to her, transfixed instead of afraid, or maybe a little bit of both .  Yang jotted that down for future reference, but tried to keep her head in the game, not think about how her lower torso was touching Blake’s and Blake herself was between her legs and her knees were pressed against Blake’s sides. Failing spectacularly, too, it seemed.

Blake reacted much quicker than Yang would have thought, her leg stroking Yang’s thigh up and down - and Yang prided herself on having a lot more control now, but she was still  _ human _ , for God’s sake - until Yang’s grip on her wrists loosened and Blake could push herself up and over, continuing her tickle torture wherever she saw fit. “You’re all talk,” she breathed in Yang’s ear, and Yang thanked all the deities she knew that she was too busy struggling to get away to really process that, or else she would’ve fainted, or something. 

It was a desperate attempt, but it was the only way she could break free: Yang pushed them both over the edge of the bed, landing hard on the ground with a yelp and a thud that her back would remember for some time, and only then did she rise up and roll over, trapping Blake under her again. Not that her courteous sacrifice to spare Blake’s spine was truly appreciated, because Blake still hit her head on the floor right afterwards in a fit of laughter, and Yang followed suit, burying her face in Blake’s neck, feeling her breathe in and out. 

The smell of her filled her nostrils, and she would’ve been happy to stay just like that, laughing until she was out of breath, had it not been for Blake’s hand making its way into Yang’s hair and pulling it up towards her. “Yang.”

Yang obeyed, lifted her head without question. Blake kept her hand where it was, looking perfectly content despite the euphoria dying down. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, but a laugh still bubbled in her stomach, lingered on her lips, and God, Yang had never seen anything this beautiful in her entire life. If Blake hadn’t come back, if she’d been forced to live forever without it…

“Yang,” Blake said again, messing Yang’s already untamed hair more and more, “are you ever going to kiss me?”

Yang could feel all the color drain from her face and then fill it back again in the span of one hot second. Blake looked at her expectantly, lips slightly parted, the cold morning sun framing her like it was claiming her for itself.

And Yang, Yang was about to reply, or maybe lean forward and press her lips to hers, whichever came first, but the door suddenly slammed over and Weiss came in, screeching. Yang jumped away from Blake immediately, stumbling to her feet. 

“Will you two  _ shut up  _ and come to breakfast? You’re guests in my sister’s house, she’s in the room next to yours-”

“You’re right,” Yang said, backing away with her hands up, because even for Weiss, she sounded pissed, and it was better not to antagonize her when she was like this. “Sorry. We’ll apologize as soon as we see her.”

“You won’t. My sister and I are leaving right now. Our father’s requested our presence.” Yang noticed her torturing her hands in her lap, but she didn’t point that out. Blake, still lying on the ground, looked sorrowful. “Apparently, he wants to play nice again, now that the family reputation’s at stake. Ruby’s tagging along for… emotional support.”

“We’re going, too,” Yang decided, immediately turning her down to grab her normal clothes from where she’d left them on the chair. “Here, let me just-”

“No, Ruby wants you two to go to Atlas Academy and gather as much information as you can about Arthur Watts - he used to be a teacher there. Maybe you can find his files in the archive.”

Yang’s shoulders slumped, not liking the idea of missing this family confrontation one bit. While she’d stopped feeling like Ruby was her responsibility and hers alone, she was still driven by the urge to protect her, and that sentiment now extended to all of her team, and all of Jaune’s team, too, and even Qrow and Maria and Oscar. Ruby would save the world, Weiss would save her family, and Blake would save the Faunus, but saving her friends was all Yang could do. When they turned down her help, they denied her a place in their world. Still, those were Ruby’s orders, so she agreed uneasily. “Sure. We were going there anyway.”

“Hey, Weiss…” Blake finally lifted herself up and stood, brows furrowed in worry. She waited for Weiss to look at her, but she only curled up more into herself. Yang could almost see her back away if Blake came any closer, cry out  _ I don’t want your pity.  _ But that didn’t discourage Blake. “It’s okay to be afraid. You won’t be alone for any of this, I swear.”

Weiss nodded, trying her best to look unaffected. Failing spectacularly, too, but neither of them was going to point that out. “I know. Thank you.”

And then, to Yang’s surprise, Blake moved towards Weiss and hugged her. And to Yang’s  _ greater _ surprise, Weiss didn’t pull away.

“We’re going to take the bastard down, all of us together,” she promised, “and make him pay for all the suffering he’s caused.”

 

It was a shame that Atlas Academy was still in session, because that meant being surrounded by judgmental preppy kids while she and Blake attempted to find what they were looking for. The Atlas library was  _ huge _ , and Yang doubted they could check it all from head to foot if they stayed there the whole day. It had a grand staircase, too, leading to multiple floors, and glass walls and ceilings.

It was no wonder Blake felt eyes on her at all times. She was more jumpy than usual, always adjusting her bandana, tying it into a bow, then untangling it and laying it back down every time someone so much as brushed past her. It wasn’t doing much to help her blend in, nor to help Yang focus, and the constant reminder of Blake wearing something of hers didn’t help matters.

And there was also an awkwardness to Blake’s shoulders whenever Yang tried to touch her to reassure her. Not like she didn’t want her to - Yang would know; they’d lived in the same skin, once - but like she was afraid to show any kind of emotional reaction.

Was it because they were in public? Was she embarrassed? Thinking she’d gone a little too far that morning, asking Yang to kiss her?

Admittedly, they hadn’t laid down any rules. They hadn’t even defined their relationship. They’d just taken things as they went, under the mutual assumption that they both felt deeply for one another. Not that Yang  _ disliked  _ Blake asking for more, really; if anyone had asked her what she wanted most out of life, kissing Blake would be right on top. It’s just she hadn’t expected to, not for a long time. She’d been willing to wait for as long as it took for Blake to feel ready, willing to cherish just Blake’s hands on her skin, in her hair, Blake’s body sleeping next to hers. It already felt like so much, like she was taking advantage of Blake, and there she was, asking her to take  _ more. _

And moral dilemma aside, Yang hadn’t  _ the slightest idea how to do that. _ She didn’t know how to give Blake what she wanted. She’d waited all her life for someone to give her a chance to love them, and now she didn’t know how to take it. Everything had come so natural to them so far, she’d just assumed she’d know what to do when the time came.

_ I’ve carried this heart all my life,  _ she wished she could say. _ Do  _ you  _ know how to handle it? _

Blake kept sneaking glances at her while they were walking, hands brushing at their sides, and smiling apologetically if Yang happened to be looking back.

_ If you do, please, don’t make me wait. The longing will only get worse. I already want you too much. _

“Blake,” she whispered instead, “when you said-”

The other girl looked up at her, wide-eyed, and rainbows filled Yang’s vision for a split second. Which was weird. She definitely did love Blake, and thought her the most beautiful girl in the world, and her heart did do somersaults in her presence, but  _ rainbows _ were new. 

She found an explanation the moment another body collided into hers at high speed and a pair of arms twined around her waist and squeezed tight, lifting her off the floor. “Yang. Xiao. Long!”

Yang couldn’t breathe. No, literally. The girl was cutting off her oxygen flow. “Hey, Neon.”

“Oh!” Neon squealed, dropping her back down. “Sorry! I’m just so excited! I haven’t heard from you since the fall of Beacon!” Her eyes seemed to zero in immediately on her metal arm, and filled with tears in the span of two seconds. Her shock pink color scheme turned dark and sad. “Oh, you poor thing.”

“It’s fine.” Yang appreciated Neon’s concern, but she wasn’t doing this again. It had been almost two years, and she was done being pitied. “I’m used to it now.”

“I’m glad,” she sniffled, slowly gaining her colors back. “You’ve gotten so much stronger. So much prettier.”

Yang looked frantically around, checking to see if Neon’s shrills were bothering anyone in the library. They were, but she didn’t seem to care, and everyone seemed pretty used to it anyway, like it was a daily occurrence. Only a small group was snickering and throwing spitballs at her that her tail caught and threw back without a second thought.

“Uh, thanks?”  _ You too,  _ she was supposed to add, according to the rules of social interaction, but over Neon’s shoulder, Blake was partly amused, partly unnerved, and it was hard to tell which was winning right now, so she wouldn’t take any chances. She coughed instead and tried to redirect Neon’s attention. “Neon, do you remember my…”

Mmh. Well, shit. She was just digging her own grave today, wasn’t she?

Neon finally looked behind her, a flash of recognition in her eyes, but patiently waited for Yang to finish her introduction.

“My…” Girlfriend? Friend? Teammate? The repetition must’ve already alerted Blake that she was thinking about it too much. “Partner?”

She patted herself on the back internally. It was as good an answer as any, and a good catch-all. She just couldn’t tell how it had fared with Blake, because Blake was still really good at hiding herself when it wasn’t just the two of them, or the four of them.

Neon smiled cutely at her. “Of course I do. Blake Belladonna, right?” She went over and hugged her too, despite having barely talked to her before. “Are all of your teammates here? To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“A top secret mission,” Blake replied, but jokingly enough that Neon couldn’t tell if it was true or not.

“Oh,  _ lucky _ . They never let us go anywhere anymore. Oh, Yang, we’re definitely partying together now that you’re here. Are you guys going to the dance?”

“The… dance?” Yang rubbed her head. “You mean the Atlas ball? You were invited?”

Neon giggled, like the idea was entirely absurd. “No, silly! That’s a high society ball. Faunus aren’t allowed there.” Blake tensed up imperceptibly. “I’m talking about the dance I’m hosting in the dorms. There will be real music. And booze. Same time as the ball, but with cooler people. Faunus, mostly. You guys should be there - especially you, Blake. I  _ know _ we could use someone like you.” Then she winked at her, but it wasn’t a flirtatious wink. Yang didn’t know what it was, but the way Blake was sizing her up made her think she might've had an idea. "What do you say?”

Yang sighed. “Neon, I really don’t know. We’ll be pretty busy that night-”

“We’ll be there,” Blake decided, to Yang’s surprise. Blake barely wanted to attend the Atlas ball at all - let alone  _ two  _ of them on the same night. “If you help us with something.”

“Sure! Anything!”

“Don’t ask why,” Blake said, “but we have to get into the archives. I’m guessing only Atlas students have access to them, assuming that we ever  _ find _ them.”

“Correct,” Neon said proudly. “This library is a maze. It is  _ so _ much fun to play hide-and-seek in.”

“No doubt,” Yang replied dryly, at the same time that Blake asked, “Who are you hiding from?”

The reply came in the form of a random kid running by and yanking on Neon’s tail, making her squeak out in pain. This, too, was treated as a daily occurrence by everyone in the library, save for the librarian glaring at  _ Neon _ for disturbing the quiet instead of the other boy. Beside Yang, a sound that could only be described as a growl came out of Blake’s throat.

Yang reached out and touched Neon’s shoulder with one hand, grabbing Blake’s hand with the other before she lashed out and did something stupid.

Neon seemed to appreciate the silent comfort, if the return of her blinding smile, though slightly tighter than before, was any indication. “Oh, you know. Haters gonna hate.” Then, clapping her hands together and sprinting forward: “Come on, follow me.”

 

Of all the things Yang thought she’d see one day - if the short, eventful life she’d lived until then was any indication - Ruby brushing and tying Weiss’s hair into a ponytail was absolutely last, and yet that’s what she was witnessing right now, the three of them sat on the carpet in front of the fire, Weiss curling in on herself like a shock blanket. She hadn’t said much until then and just sat staring at the flames while Yang told Ruby about her day.

Her sister’s fingers froze in Weiss’s hair when Yang broke the news about Watts. “Wait, aura experimentation? Really?”

Yang shrugged. “Yeah, apparently he was banished from Atlas for conducting illegal experiments. We don’t know what aura experimentation entails, because his files don’t say much else, but he’s been blamed for the deaths of at least two people.”

“I think…” Ruby frowned, her hands moving again, “I think that’s what they were trying to do to Pyrrha, too. Jaune told me what he knew, but it sure would be helpful if Ozpin decided to cooperate.”

“Yeah, fat chance,” Yang grumbled. “If Salem’s allowed Watts to continue his experiments, who knows what we’re gonna be dealing with in three days’ time. Overpowered enemies? Overpowered Grimm? We’re screwed.”

Ruby didn’t comment, instead just disentangling the rubber band she had wrapped around her wrist. “Weiss, can you tilt your head forward and slightly more to the left?”

Weiss complied, also without commenting.

Yang raised her eyebrows, not wanting to breach a potentially hurtful topic but needing answers all the same. “How’d it go with your father?”

Weiss blinked, as if surprised she was being directly spoken to. “It’s my father. Of course it wouldn’t go well.”

Yang looked at Ruby as she finally finished off Weiss’s high ponytail, but she just shook her head. She waited for Weiss to elaborate.

“I really thought he’d at least  _ try _ , you know. That he’d play nice one more time to manipulate me into coming home. But he didn’t. His patience is wearing thin and my refusal to go back looks bad on him. He says there will be consequences.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yang,” Ruby tried to explain, her voice low, “he tried to attack her.”

“What?!”

Weiss scoffed. “That’s just what he does. What he’s always done. Winter stood in front of me this time, but I won’t always have her.”

“You’ll always have  _ us _ ,” Yang insisted. “Weiss, come on. You’re eighteen - he can’t force you to go back if you don’t want to.”

“I  _ don’t _ want to,” Weiss confirmed, “but I have to. How else am I going to get my family back? How else am I going to fix his messes?”

“By  _ not _ going into the lion’s den, maybe? By trusting us and waiting for the right time to strike together? I know you’re used to dealing with things yourself - but that hasn’t worked out so well so far, has it? So what makes you think it will now?”

She spoke softly, so that Weiss understood that she wasn’t scolding her - her resentment was directed at Weiss’s father and at all those people who, like him, made little girls feel alone and unsafe and like they couldn’t reach out to anyone for help. She thought of Jacques, but she also thought of Adam. “As huntresses, we’re here to make a terrible world better. That doesn’t mean its weight has to rest on your shoulders.”

Weiss smiled ironically, which was more than Yang had expected from her, anyway. Sometimes she forgot how much she’d grown. That she was less afraid to show vulnerability now, that they’d already talked to each other about their different brands of loneliness. “I want to believe that.”

“Please, do.” Yang smiled back as sincerely as possible, though it wavered when the same, old, obsessive thoughts crossed her mind. “It nearly tore me and Blake apart.”

The silence that fell over the room afterwards was nearly religious - the three of them reflecting on how dangerous a mindset it could be, thinking you were alone when you weren’t, if it could corrupt something as beautiful. Or at least, Yang was thinking about it. Why, she didn’t know.

“Where’s Blake, anyway?” Ruby asked.

“Getting some air outside.”

“Why are you not with her?”

It  _ was  _ the first time in three days that they weren’t joined at the hip. “I think she wanted to be alone.”

“I’ll rephrase Ruby’s question for her,” Weiss cut in. “Why are you not with her  _ yet _ ? Both in the physical sense - seriously, your leg is twitching, just go - and in the… dating sense.”

Yang laughed nervously. “I don’t think I want to have this discussion with you right now.”

“Then don’t think of it as a discussion. Think of it as an intervention.”

“I liked you more when you were staring moodily at the fire.”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before giving me a pep talk. Now shut up and listen.”

Yang‘s eyes darted to Ruby, screaming for help, but she turned her head away.  _ Betrayed _ , by her own family.

“Yang,” Weiss called her back, “you’ve been in love with her for  _ years _ . You two have pined over each other all over Remnant. And now you’re here, spending every minute of every day together, looking at each other like- like  _ that _ , and you’re still not doing anything about it.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“Because you’re  _ not _ . I would be able to tell.” Yang couldn’t argue with that. If she was kissing, breathing, living Blake, people would be able to tell on the other side of the world. “There’s always this… tension between you. Not the bad kind, just… what’s holding you back?”

“Weiss, please.”

“You know she loves you too, right?”

God, she hoped so. She prayed for it every night. “I don’t want to assume.”

“She does,” Ruby confirmed. “And you know, too. You’re not afraid of rejection. What are you afraid of?”

Well, that made things difficult. She could accuse Weiss of not knowing what she was talking about, that she was full of shit. But Ruby, who could see through her at every turn, who’d known her all her life? Could she really lie to her?

“Hurting her. Hurting myself. I don’t know.” But she did. She just couldn’t figure out how to make words work. “It feels too easy.”

Ruby hummed, looking hesitant to voice whatever was on her mind. “Isn’t that the point? I mean, I don’t know much about love, other than what I’ve learnt from the stories you used to tell me. But love there was always so easy.”

Ruby probably thought that was stupid, because she’d grown up on fairytales, and they always had a happy ending. But then again, Ruby also knew enough about life to know she wouldn’t find fairy tales there unless she was the one to create them. Yang couldn’t just disregard her little sister’s opinion like that.

“It is,” she confirmed. “It’s supposed to be the easiest thing in the world. But I don’t know how to do easy.”  _ All the love I received, I had to fight for. All the love I gave bled out of me.  _ “I’m going to smother her.”

“Oh, don’t give yourself too much credit,” Weiss scowled. “She’s stronger than that. And besides, after what you’ve been through? Whatever happiness you’re going to get has been paid for three times over.”

Yang tried to imagine that - truly, actually being with Blake, with nothing standing in their way. Being allowed to love her, hold her in the night, kiss her in the day. No amount of bloodshed, no amount of pain could possibly be worth that much. They’d have to pay for that happiness with their own lives, and while Yang would’ve given hers up in a second, she wasn’t willing to risk Blake’s. 

“You idiot,” Weiss again, “stop overthinking it. I’m going to kill you.”

“Go to her,” Ruby said. “Now. You’ve been away from each other for too long.”

She didn’t know if she meant their year-long separation, or that they hadn’t seen each other in almost an hour by now. She didn’t particularly care, because she did feel it inside her, the urge to run to Blake and wrap her up in her arms and kiss her until they lost their breath, or until her semblance fired up and Yang burned to a crisp.

She felt the flames already licking up at her chest as she found herself outside on the balcony, with no recollection of how she got there. She must’ve gotten up at some point and run fast, as her legs hurt quite a bit, but none of that mattered except the girl standing with her back to her, on the balcony looking over a night view of Mantle.

“Blake,” Yang called, and when Blake turned around, she was crying. “What’s wrong?”

Blake wiped furiously at her eyes, like she’d forgotten about her current state before Yang brought it up. Like she was ashamed of being caught. “I have to go, Yang.”

“Go?”  _ She’s leaving you again. She’s leaving like you knew she would. You were never enough to make her stay.  _ But no, no, that couldn’t be. “Go where?”

Blake’s head turned towards Mantle, down below, smoke rising from its mines. “I have to help them. I’m the only one who can.”

_ But you’re not,  _ Yang wanted to say. She wanted to take her by the shoulders, shake her and beg her not to leave again. Remind her she’d made a promise. But it wouldn’t matter to Blake if someone else was out there to take that burden off her shoulders, because they weren’t here right now - and she was, and she  _ could  _ help. Yang could never expect her to hide away in the sky when people needed her on the ground.

Still, they’d had that conversation already. It had all been hypothetical, a project for a future where she had the means to make a difference. She didn’t sound like she wanted to wait now. “What changed?”

Blake shrugged, her shoulders shaking even with that tiny motion. She had her arms wrapped around herself, so Yang knew not to get closer, even though it was all she wanted to do. “Neon was talking to me, before. She knows who I am. She knows who everyone is, apparently. The White Fang never made it to Atlas, but there  _ are _ organized forces among the Faunus here. They’ve made a few attempts to change things, sure, some protests here and there. They were mostly unsuccessful. But maybe, this time-” Blake shook her head, refusing to entertain whatever thought came into her mind. “Anyway. Some of them have been arrested for insubordination during a rally and sent to work in the mines. Big names in Atlas, apparently - the SDC made an example out of them, but they couldn’t break them. They’re still there, working for the Faunus and needing our help.”

Yang was failing to catch up. When had Neon even told Blake all that? She’d been with them the whole time, save for a quick bathroom break. She felt a little offended that Neon hadn’t trusted her too, but then again, she thought grimly, few people really took her seriously. “What are you going to do?”

Blake looked back down over the mines, hands grasping the railing a little bit tighter. “Use the ball as a distraction and hijack an airship,” she said, like she was planning what to cook for dinner rather than commit a felony. “Neon’s ball is a cover story, too. A gathering of Faunus that big would attract unwanted attention otherwise.”

“Do you… have a plan not to get caught?”

“Not really. We’ll just make it up as we go along.”

“Of course,” Yang sighed, unsurprised. “Well. Let’s go talk to the others about it, maybe I can talk them into it.”

“You’re not coming,” Blake said, because of course,  _ of course  _ she had to make this harder on herself than it had to be. “While I deal with Jacques Schnee from down there, you need to deal with him here. You’ve said it yourself, this is not going to work without inside help.”

“I’m sure we can spare a few people to go with you.” 

“What about the relic? The Winter Maiden? Watts? Any more of Salem’s minions, because they  _ will _ come?” She threw a pitiful smile Yang’s way. “What you’re doing is too important.  _ All _ of you.”

Yang was already scowling, ready to argue that, since she had no specific business to take care of in Atlas - or in life, generally - she could and would help whatever part of the mission she felt closest to her heart. But Blake spoke again:

“You don’t need to abandon your mission to follow me. I’ll have people looking after me.”

And Yang found the idea unbearable. “I don’t know who these people are - I don’t  _ care _ who these people are, because they’re not me. Neon’s cool, and fierce, and she has a few tricks up her sleeve, but she’s not me, either.”

Blake just blinked slowly. “Do you like her? Neon?”

Yang was really confused as to why  _ that _ mattered now. “No. I want to be with you. Only you.”

Whatever Blake expected her to say, it wasn’t  _ this. _ Her entire body froze in its tracks; even her shoulders stopped shaking. “I meant, do you like her as a  _ person _ . As in… trust her?”

_ Oh.  _ She fought the embarrassment off - pushed it down, down and away. “I guess, but - not with your life. And I won’t have to, because I told you - I want to be with you, I’m going to  _ be _ with you.”

“Yang-”

But Yang was tired of talking. All she cared about was that Blake was upset, and she wasn’t doing anything to comfort her. She wondered where Blake needed her most, started from the side of her face, down her neck, to her collarbone and down still - and when Blake went soft and pliant under her hands, her resolve forgotten, her forehead relaxed, she realized the answer was _everywhere_ , _everywhere._

She hadn’t realized her hand was resting on Blake’s scar until Blake hissed at her touch. Yang’s eyes shot up to hers, worried, as she removed her hand. “Does it hurt, when I do that?”

“It hurts,” Blake caught her hand again, brought it back to where her scar was, keeping her there, “when you don’t.”

It was a revelation. It was euphoria. She wasn’t hurting Blake - she probably never would. Blake took comfort from her presence, from her touch, and Yang let her take it all - whatever she saw in her, whatever she needed. She’d bleed it out for her to the last drop. “I won’t stop touching you, then.”

“Okay.”

 “I mean, ever.”

“Yang,” Blake murmured, her lips so close to Yang’s she felt the shape of the word, “you’re trembling.”

Her hand was shaking on Blake’s lower abdomen, yes. She was trying to keep it still, but it was outside of her control. It was still shaking when she reached up to cup Blake’s cheek, and when Blake pressed a kiss to her palm. Her lips probably shook as well, when they finally touched Blake’s. She didn’t care. Blake had given her love away and never gotten it back, and there Yang was, guarding more love in her chest than she knew what to do with. It had piled up in her year after year just so when the time came, she could afford not to hold anything back.

Blake was quick to respond, too quick. The way she latched on to her desperately while trying to keep the kiss slow made Yang’s bones feel too big for her body. _How long have we been starved_ , Yang thought? _How long will it feel like this, like the world will end if she pulls away?_

“I wish you’d realize,” Blake breathed between their kisses a few hours later, in their bed, moonlight filtering through the curtains - her skin soft and beautiful and warm wherever Yang touched. “That you’re meant for more than this. More than just taking care of me, of all of us.”

“But I don’t know what I’m meant for,” Yang lied, when the answer lay right in front of her - part of it, at least. She knew now, with absolute certainty, that she wanted no future that didn’t include Blake. Three words had been on the tip of her tongue all night and she’d just swallowed them down, smothered them with her mouth on Blake’s body.  _ Not yet. Maybe tomorrow _ . “Can I be with you until I figure it out?”

Blake sighed to the ceiling as Yang started making her way down. “For as long as you like,” she whispered.  “For as long as you like.”


End file.
